


Private Channel

by holdenscoffee (spacebarista)



Category: The Expanse (TV), The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Null-G Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Romance, Voice Kink, Zero-gravity sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7934410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebarista/pseuds/holdenscoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naomi's hard at work on the Roci's exterior when Jim comes up with an unusual way to alleviate his boredom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it. A smut fic? From ME???? It's been like a year, smutty Shannon, where you been?
> 
> Anyway, I got this idea because I a) love Steven Strait's voice, b) love that Naomi and Holden have their own private channel to chit chat/comfort each other/tease each other over, and c) can only imagine what they might get up to considering the above facts. 
> 
> There will be a part 2, involving more fun with our favorite space mom and dad, and it may evolve into a third part if I feel like breaking the chapter up. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Please review if you can, and thanks for checking this out!

Naomi sighs into her helmet for the fourth time in an hour. She doesn’t know how little things go wrong on a ship that could take care of itself, and yet here she is. Outside the _Roci_ in her EVA suit with Amos a few meters away. She could have— _should_ have—still been in bed beside her sleeping captain. But the little things need fixing.

 

She and Amos had been out for a little over three hours. They’ve fixed crooked arrays, loose panels. Hell, they’d even brightened the paint job a touch. The _Roci_ is between jobs, and they have all the time in the world for repairs too small to go to Tycho for. The early start had been her idea, so they could still have much of the day cycle to work inside the ship and enjoy some of their leisure time. She’d regretted it the second her alarm had gone off.

 

Jim had been warm against her, snoring softly into her neck. It never bothered her when he did. She found it kind of cute, really. Which made it even harder to disentangle herself from him to get dressed. He had muttered something, but otherwise stayed asleep. She’d kissed his forehead before leaving him.

 

How badly she wants to be back in bed with him, even if he’s awake and at work as she thinks it.

 

“Hey, boss,” Amos called into the common channel. “I’m moving onto the next set of panels. I’ll still be close if you need me.”

 

Naomi nodded a fist to him. “Got it. Thanks, Amos.” She sees him shift just inside her field of view. How much longer will they be out here? There’s a cup of tea and a nice nap calling her name.

 

“Naomi.”

 

She almost drops the welding torch in her hand at the soft rumble of Jim’s voice over their private channel. Her name off his lips never ceases to make her heart flutter. Her name coupled with his voice, especially. Something about that deep timbre gives her shivers and shoots straight to her lower belly. Naomi catches her breath and chins the button to shift her audio output out of the common channel into her and Jim’s.

 

“Hey, you,” she singsongs, getting back to work. “How long have you been up?”

 

“Couple hours. It was hard to sleep when the bed got cold.”

 

She grins. She can’t hear the sound of her torch as it welds the loose corner on the panel before her. She can only hear her own breathing. His breathing. It’s soothing and comforting. The stress melts away and she focusses on the job and Jim. What he could be doing while he’s teasing her.

 

“Well, _someone_ had to get up and work. Besides, you’re the warm one. Not me. You’re like my pet space heater.”

 

“Oh, so _that’s_ why you keep me around, Nagata?”

 

She can hear the smile in his voice and it makes her smile wider.

 

“Among other things, _Holden_.” Naomi moves onto the next panel. “What are you up to?”

 

He groans, sighs in chorus with a slight metallic creaking. She usually associates those noises with him collapsing into their bed. He does it more often than she’d like, but with the _Roci_ in null g, she’s not too worried about it. She pictures him holding onto the metal frame to keep from drifting around instead. “I’m about to begin the _thrilling_ work of going over expense reports for when we hit Tycho.”

 

“Aw, poor baby.”

 

“I know. Pity me.”

 

Naomi lets a laugh escape her. God… he could be so _dramatic_. But only in these moments. These moments that don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. These moments most people would deem unimportant. These moments she loves because of all the times they could have been stolen from her. But he’s just inside the ship, smiling just like she is. This one… he won’t be stolen from her.

 

Jim hums low in his throat. The hum he makes when he’s thinking. There’s something different about it this time. Something that sends a shiver down her spine. The way he holds it out, lets it linger between them.

 

“What,” she whispers, holding her breath for reasons she’s unsure of. “What is it?”

 

The pause goes on for longer than she’d expect. Longer than she'd like.

 

“Nothing,” Jim replies, his tone implying the opposite. It has nothing to do with the _Roci_ , that's for sure. Nothing to do with expense reports or repair costs or crew payments. Meaning is still there. Meaning for _them_. In her mind, she can clearly see him with his lips quirked slightly to the side, eyes twinkling with mischief.

 

“Jim.”

 

“Nah, you don't want to know.”

 

She sighs. Fifth time. “Now I do.”

 

He sighs, loud and mock exasperated in her ear. More shivers. “Fine, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you.” He pauses again. Damn him and his dramatics. Her curiosity stops her completely, and she catches herself sitting with the button on the torch compressed under her thumb. Welding nothing. Waiting for Jim to speak.

 

“Just picturing you spread out under me on the bed.”

 

Naomi's breath hitches. Oh… oh, _God_. Jim isn't… well, she had never exactly thought of him as overtly sexual. Skilled in bed, just a _bit_ handsome, sure. His looks had played no small part in her initial feelings for him. But when she thinks of him, words like “naughty” or “dirty” don't even cross her mind. He's Jim. Goofy, flirty, loving, teasing, giving Jim. This self-assured dirty talk has never been part of his playbook. Even in bed it isn't exactly common. He relies mostly on making her _feel_ —making her feel adored, warm... _loved_. This is something new. Something different. And intensely, uncharacteristically _sexy_. His low chuckle in her ear gives away that he's heard her. A warmth blooms low in her belly at the sound.

 

“You like that then?” His own voice is a near whisper. As if anyone could hear them at any time. In his case, that could be true.

 

Naomi takes a breath. “Yes,” she whispers. She releases the button on her torch. “Tell me more.”

 

“More?” Now she senses his hesitation. Hears the mask slipping. Her Jim is peeking out through the cracks in this facade he’s putting up. It makes her smile. He clears his throat. “More. Right.”

 

“Jim. Tell me more.”

 

He takes a deep breath. The image of Jim in her mind has his eyes closed, his brows drawn together. Overthinking. Always overthinking. He lets the breath out and she sees him relax. Sees him smile. He hums a laugh.

 

“You’re naked.”

 

Naomi laughs. “Obviously.”

 

“Hm. Yeah. But I’m not.”

 

“No?”

 

“Nope. I’m still dressed. Kissing that spot behind your ear.”

 

Naomi hums, smiles. If she’d been anywhere on the _Roci_ she’d brush her thumb over it. Just for the tingle. But she’s in an EVA suit with nothing but her imagination. She imagines the brush of his jumpsuit, his shirt, against her bare skin. She can almost feel the shivers it would send through her. “And?”

 

“You're so impatient,” Jim laughs.

 

 _Yes. For you._ “You're losing momentum here, honey.”

 

“I’m kissing down your neck. Across your tattoo.”

 

God, she loves that. And so does he. “Are you using your teeth?”

 

“Is that what you want?” Her Jim again. No teasing tone. Looking for what she wants, giving it to her.

 

“Always.”

 

Naomi sees him gazing up at her. Sees his parted lips and focused eyes. Sees the corner of his mouth twitch.

 

“Then yes. Absolutely. Biting your tattoo.”

 

“Gently?”

 

“ _Very_ gently.”

 

Naomi sighs. Her eyes flutter shut. She imagines the drag of his teeth against the delicate skin of her neck. The slight sting. She would thread her fingers through his hair, keep him right where she wants him. She wonders if he’s imagining her nails against his scalp. Knowing how he always stutters, always tilts his head into her touch like he needs more, always lets his own eyes flutter shut at her touch… he likely is.

 

Without further interruptions from her, Jim carries on. “Then down to kiss your collarbone. No teeth. Not with that low-cut shirt you always wear.”

 

“Don’t want the other boys to see?”

 

“Please. I’m not worried. I don’t want _Amos_ to see. I like my face the way it is.”

 

Naomi laughs despite herself. Not at Amos, never at Amos. But at Jim. His and Amos’ relationship has vastly improved. They’re almost like _almost_ friends. They can work together for hours without devolving into insults and growls. They even bring each other snacks and coffee. Still, Jim is hesitant with him when it comes to their relationship, even knowing she and Amos had never been much more than partners of a different sense. Like Amos is the ol’ “protective brother with the shotgun” Earthers tended to joke about.

 

She hates that joke. She hates thinking it about Amos. About Amos or Jim thinking they needed to feel that way about _her_.

 

“And now,” Jim continues, drawing her back to his fantasy. “I’m kissing down your chest. Slowly.”

 

A breath escapes her with a soft sound. She’s made the sound countless times as he’d done that very thing. She hears his own breath hitch. The warmth in her belly strengthens, spreads. She loves every little sound Jim makes. The obvious ones, but also the sighs, the whimpers, the whines. He’s never ashamed of them, like... other men she’s been with. The ones who only growl and groan and shout. It’s refreshing. Like he’s never looking to prove himself as a man. Or _the_ man.

 

Jim clears his throat. “I move down…”

 

“Down to my breasts?” Her voice is so weak, so soft. Almost desperate. She wants to hear him say it. But she has to ask. She has to get him moving. No more teasing. It takes a long moment for him to answer.

 

“Yes.” It’s barely more than an audible sigh. “Yes. Kissing all the way down to your nipple. So I can take it in my mouth.”

 

A whimper escapes her. Loud enough for Jim to hear over the comms, surely. Behind her closed eyes, Jim’s dark head held to her breast by her own hand. Not that he’ll go anywhere anyway. She can nearly feel the heat of his mouth, the pull on her skin. The EVA suit becomes more stifling. The heat in her belly rises.

 

“Jim—”

 

“I know. Teeth. I suck first, so I can hear that little gasp I always get.” His words come out fast, breathy. Like he needs to get them out as badly as she needs to hear them. “Then… I’ll _gently_ scrape my teeth against that peak. And when I've had my fill I'll switch to your other breast.”

 

“No breast left behind?” The joke bubbles out of her mouth before she can stop it. Her lust is dizzying.

 

“Well,” he drawls, still keeping his voice low. “I _was_ in the navy.”

 

She laughs, breathy and short. “Okay then, _sailor_ … time for you to complete your mission.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” Jim groans like he’s stretching. Clears his throat. “So… I suck and bite on your nipple. I use my hand to toy with your other breast. Kneading, squeezing… tweaking.”

 

The sensation of Jim pinching her nipple shoots through her, as if he’d done it through the channel. Her breath quickens and she tries her best to calm it. She’s not sure she’ll have the focus to refill her air in this state. Her free hand is clenched as tight as it can be. She longs to be able to touch herself, to lessen the tension in her body. Her boyfriend is pure evil.

 

And yet all she wants right now is to be with him. Feeling these things rather than hearing them.

 

“I kiss you between your breasts, my hand stroking all the way down your side to your knee and back up again.” Her skin tingles and warms, continues to imitate the sensation of Jim’s light touch. “And I keep kissing down, down… nuzzle your belly ‘cause I _know_ you’re ticklish—”

 

“ _God_ , I hate you,” she groans, squirming in the suit.

 

“Aw, don’t say that,” he teases. She can hear the pout in his voice. “I could stop, if you’d—”

 

“Don’t. _Please_ don’t.”

 

Jim pauses again. Mulls over her words. He hums. “I won’t. I kiss your belly, still petting your leg. I kiss your hip, up your thigh to your knee…”

 

She sees him again. Feels his breath against her skin as his mouth moves over the slope of her leg. He presses a kiss to the inside of her knee. Then his eyes open and his heavy gaze meets hers.

 

Naomi nearly moans his name.

 

Jim cuts back in before she can make a sound. “Now… I get to kiss back down your inner thigh. Down that soft, smooth skin.” His voice gets lower, somehow closer as he speaks. A trick of her mind to bring him into the suit with her. Naomi sees him kissing lower. Pausing with each kiss. Driving her need and want to new levels. “Kissing down, down, down, biting _just_ a little… Until I—”

 

“Hey, boss.”

 

Naomi jolts back to reality, her eyes snapping open as she squeezes the torch and reignites it in surprise. Amos hovers ahead of her. Not close, but close enough to see her face through her visor. That her eyes had been closed—in bliss, desire, fantasy—for one reason or another. A cause for concern on any spacewalk. His brows are drawn together in concern. She can hear Jim laughing in her ear as she chins the button to set her back to the common channel, silently cursing both her boyfriend and Amos in Belter.

 

“Yes, Amos?” Her voice is tight, high. She knows he can hear her exasperation.

 

Something changes in his face. “Just checking in. Haven't heard from you, and you've been working on that same panel for a while. You okay?”

 

“Yeah, XO,” Jim mutters in her ear. His tone, the ever-present teasing, sends a shiver through her. “You okay?”

 

Naomi forces herself not to respond. “I’m fine, Amos. Just… Daydreaming.”

 

“Daydreaming? You? That seems a little—” He cuts himself off. His face changes again. Changes to something lighter. Amused. Knowing. _Shit_. “Ah. I get you, boss. I’ll finish up on this side. Leave you and… I’ll leave you to it.” He nods a fist at her, obvious smirk still in place.

 

Well, at least it’s Amos.

 

Jim hums. “Man… that must be _embarrassing._ ”

 

“Shut up,” Naomi groans, vaguely wishing she could float back to the airlock now to catch her breath in their cabin. Until she remembers who’s waiting there. “No, wait. Don't stop. Keep going.”

 

“You sure? I wouldn't want Amos to think you aren't focusing on your repairs, XO.”

 

“Pretty sure _that_ ship has sailed, Captain…”

 

He pauses again, running her words through his head to figure it out. When he laughs, she catches herself smiling. She’d expected something else.

 

“I guess I'm never looking Amos in the eye again, then.”

 

“That makes you and me both.” She wants to say Amos’ interruption killed the heat coursing through her body. She wants to announce that she’s no longer incredibly turned on and dying to get back inside to lock him with her in their cabin until she’s satisfied. But that would be a lie. What she wants is to do exactly that. Let him have his wicked way with her, and take her own turn with him. She compromises. “So…”

 

“So?”

 

“You were saying?”

 

“Was I?”

 

“Jim…”

 

“What was I saying?”

 

Naomi sighs, a smile playing on her face. She hears the joke in his tone. A fresh flutter of desire passes through her at Jim wanting to hear her say it. “You were kissing down my thigh…”

 

“Oh,” he breathes. “Right, right. I’m kissing down your thigh, lower and lower. Slow as I can stand.”

 

She closes her eyes again, rebuilds the picture. A soft moan escapes her. His breath hitches again over the comm. For the first time, she wonders if he’s done anything. He certainly could. He’s not bound to his EVA suit, unable to touch himself. She hums at _that_ image too.

 

“And then…”

 

Naomi hums again, the sound full of want and promise. She’s so close to the image she wants. She can hardly get off on it in her situation, but she can get as close to the precipice as she can. Keep him talking with that low voice that makes her weaker in the knees than one g ever could. Until she’s got him alone and can make him reenact every dirty thought he’s sent her way. “And then…?”

 

Jim takes a deep breath. Naomi finds herself holding hers. Waiting, waiting waiting. Waiting for him to _say it_.

 

“And _then_ …” He pauses, draws it out further. Naomi can’t stand it. She might burst if he doesn’t just—”You know… I think I should let you finish.”

 

Naomi sputters. “I—wait, Jim—”

 

“Really. I’ve been taking up too much of your time. Amos is doing _all_ the work.”

 

Naomi moans, a mix of frustration and dissatisfaction and _want_. “ _Jim_.” Part of her is ashamed at how wanton, how whiny, how _sad_ she sounds. Another part is furious with Jim for building her up so far just to leave her like this. And another just wants him more than she can stand. “Jim, _don’t_.”

 

“Find me when you’ve finished, XO.”

 

His audio cuts out, and Naomi groans again. He left her like this. He _left her like this_. “What an _asshole_.”

 

“I don’t know, boss. I’m pretty impressed he has that effect on you. Never saw him as a dirty talker myself.”

 

“ _Amos!_ ” Heat rises in her cheeks and up the back of her neck—finally somewhere other than her belly. What had he heard? If he heard it… had Alex? For a fleeting moment, she worries she’ll be sick in her suit. What a turnaround.

 

“Sorry.” He sounds anything but. “You forgot to switch your audio output. Only heard that last bit. If it helps.” He sounds like he doesn’t care.

 

“It doesn’t. But thanks for letting me know.” Naomi looks away from him, finally getting back to her welding to shift her focus from her unsatisfied need and her rising embarrassment. “I’m going to finish here and move on to the last panel.”

 

“Heard. I’ll be quick, too. Don’t want to be the guy who keeps you from getting laid. You’ll be bumping uglies with Holden in less than an hour, guaranteed.”

 

Naomi has never been more grateful—and mortified—to have Amos around. Her best wingman. At least he won’t hold this against her. Just Jim. The thought of his smug, handsome face makes her need flare up again. She suppresses a groan and moves onto the next panel, Amos humming in her ear.

 

_Jim… you better make good on your promises. You owe me._


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Naomi (and Holden) get what they want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done. It's finally done. It's taken months but I have finally finished.
> 
> Thanks so much for being so patient or for reading both parts now that I've finished. I also want to thank [notnowcommander](http://archiveofourown.org/users/notnowcommander) and [legitimate_salvage](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/pseuds/legitimate_salvage) for beta-ing on and off for the last few months. Special thanks to y'all. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review if you can!

Had there been any gravity, had the _Roci_  been under thrust, Naomi would be tapping her boot against the bulkhead as the airlock cycles. She needs to get inside. Needs to get out of her EVA suit. Amos’ humming in her comms is driving her insane. Not as much as the gnawing _need_ in her belly.

She’d kill Jim if she didn’t so want him between her thighs.

Amos is generous enough to let Naomi enter first, sauntering in behind her as she walks to her station as fast as her boots will let her. She almost falls into her locker pulling her foot through the suit leg. Amos chuckles behind her at his own station. Despite their closeness and the situation, a blush still manages to creep up her neck and she shoots him a dirty look. He’d heard Jim teasing her. She doesn’t think he’ll use it against them. Yet. He’ll do anything to antagonize Jim in his _very_ friendly way.

Her suit and helmet are thrown into her locker haphazardly. Jim would have chided her over the mess had he seen it. For someone who had been kicked out of the Navy, he certainly has the capability to act like he’s still a Lieutenant. It can be kind of cute, seeing him putter around, cleaning messes and reorganizing various rooms when he’s restless. She’s caught Alex and Amos leaving things out or messing things up just to get Jim riled up.

A tiny part of her wants to make more of a mess to get back at him. But then she’d be waiting even longer.

Suit and helmet stowed, Naomi heads for the ladder. She has to get to her cabin. _Their_ cabin. The ache inside her had faded slightly, but she could still feel it pulsing. Waiting for satisfaction.

“Hey, boss?”

Naomi freezes. Throws her head back and groans. “Yes, Amos?” Out of the corner of her eye she sees him cross his arms. Her gaze shifts and she looks at him without turning her head. A grin plays on his lips.

“You two play safe, now. Cap’s new kink has me wondering.”

Naomi snorts. “You’re not worried about us.”

“No, I’m not,” Amos admits with a shrug. “Just wanted to fuck with you.”

“I can’t—” Naomi pauses. Her need-driven brain can’t come up with something suitable to insult him with. Instead, she points at him, brows furrowing. “You and Alex stay off the crew deck until further notice. Understood?”

The grin returns. “You got it, boss.”

Naomi offers him one last nod before storming away to the ladder. She won’t let him stop her again. Jim’s waiting for her.

Once on the crew deck, she beelines for his—their—cabin. Normally she’d just glide, float from handhold to handhold as natural as walking. This situation calls for haste. So she relies on her mag boots to hustle along the corridor. She passes her cabin, now just a private space, closet for some of her tools, and crash couch in case needed. She ponders her cabin, situated next to his, just a moment longer.

Maybe they should take out a bulkhead, make the two cabins one.

The door to the cabin formerly known as “just his” is closed, and for a. moment Naomi’s heart stops. Had he had it open earlier when he’d had her on the comms? She hopes not, and that Alex hadn't walked by during Jim’s teasing. She doesn’t need him to join Amos in tormenting her. How could she ever let herself think Jim alone would be on the receiving ends of their taunts, with family like them?

Naomi pauses and takes a deep breath. With Jim’s promises, who knows when she’ll be able to breathe again. She slides the door open.

Only to find the room devoid of James Holden.

She blinks at the empty room. A set of headphones attached to a hand terminal hovers just over the bed. His boots are gone, his jumpsuit is gone… the headphones, terminal, and the small case of injectors on the desk are the only visible signs he’d been there at all. Hell, he’d even made the bed. She can see where he had been sitting as he’d teased her. Ripples in the tightly tucked blankets betray his presence. She smiles despite her shock and irritation. Typical.

But where is her disrespectful boyfriend? _“Find me”,_ he had said. Find him where? Her eyes drift back to the desk. An empty bulb from yesterday still sits right within Jim’s long reach. Naomi sighs, rubs her eyes. Rubs her thighs together. Of course. She pivots and heads for the only other place he would choose to be.

Naomi manages to avoid Alex and Amos on her way to the galley. She half expects Amos to be lurking. To be cracking jokes or giving her a discreet thumbs up. It can be hard to be the only woman on a ship of men. She’d been lucky so far. It had to run out eventually. Such a shame she couldn’t keep this secret about Jim to herself for a while longer. The only secret he has, really. Compared to her laundry list of them.

Those darker thoughts are banished from her mind once she sees Jim alone in the galley, coffee in hand as he leans against the counter. His face is a mask of perfect innocence to match his casual stance. A dark eyebrow raises at her entrance, and she sees the corner of his mouth twitch.

“Oh, XO Nagata,” he starts, mischief in his voice. “Do you need something?”

Naomi gapes at him. Does she _need_ something? She’d been at the mercy of his teasing and her rising lust for so long. He knows. Of course he knows. And Jim stands there with his infuriatingly innocent smile as it begins to turn smug, sipping at his coffee. She’d be angrier if he didn’t look so good as he leaned, legs and arms crossed, eyeing her over his mug. She opens her mouth to retort, but all that comes out is an irritated choke. She can’t even think of the words to tell him off. His smile grows into a smirk. _Bastard_.

Naomi crosses the galley in three strides and knocks the mug from his hand. The sealed cup floats away on a collision course with a cabinet as Naomi grabs the collar of her smirking boyfriend’s jumpsuit and pulls him in to crash her lips against his. He makes a surprised sound low in his throat and her hips pin his to the counter behind him. His arms wrap around her, strong and warm and pulling her somehow even closer than she already is. She kisses him until they’re both breathless.

When they finally peel apart, Naomi doesn’t let him go far. Their lips and noses brush as they breathe the same air. Naomi opens her eyes and finds Holden’s warm brown ones trained on her. The heat in her belly intensifies.

“You,” she whispers against his lips, adjusting her grip on his jumpsuit. “I need _you_.”

Jim blinks at her, breath still coming heavy. Slowly, he grins, tilting his chin up to catch her lips in a quick peck.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

The dance to his cabin is a blur once Jim drops the facade of ignorance. They make it there still dressed, though Jim had shrugged off the top half of his jumpsuit to reveal the black shirt beneath. She's on him as soon as the door slides shut, pressing her lips against his, one hand threading through his hair while the other slips under his shirt seeking warm skin. He shivers, leaving Naomi to wonder if her hands had been too cold. Not that she cares. If she can handle his torture, he can handle a cold hand on his side for a few seconds.

He doesn’t even have to. Before Naomi can go much further, Jim pulls her hand from his shirt, breaks away from her kiss.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasps, hand gentle on her wrist. He shoots her a shy grin. “I had this all planned out, you know.”

“Oh, really?” Naomi purrs, pressing against him. “So that wasn't just posturing?”

Jim snorts. “Naomi, you wound me. You think I wouldn’t keep my promises?”

Naomi gives him a sly smile, pulling away and slowly dragging the zipper down on her jumpsuit. “Well then… maybe you should get to work, _Captain_.”

He licks his lip, eyes flicking from her hand up to her face. “Maybe I should, XO.”

This time, Jim’s on _her_. He helps her pull the top half of her jumpsuit off, kisses her again as he grips the material of her shirt at her waist. Naomi lifts her arms, letting him pull off her shirt and toss it away. She thinks he sometimes forgets the things he throws won’t land somewhere, that they’ll float around them until Alex gets them under thrust. It’s one of those little things that remind her that her boyfriend is an Earther. One of the more endearing reminders. The chill of the cabin air reaches her bare skin. Jim pulls her against his chest before she can even shiver.

As Naomi loops an arm around the back of his neck, pulls him in for another kiss, she’s given another reminder. Under his shirt and his warm skin lies hard muscle that no Belter could maintain quite the same way. Jim isn't the biggest Earther she’s met. She’d seen many broad, hulking UN soldiers patrolling the tunnels of Ceres in her youth that could easily knock a full-grown Jim on his ass. Still, his leaner frame is well defined from work and exercise, and she always gets a small thrill from tracing the lines of his muscles as he lies beside her.

Jim makes quick work of her bra, using one hand to unclasp it. It’s one talent he has that makes her laugh and him blush. Not that he isn’t the slightest bit proud of it, but he had no intention of trying to impress her with it. To him, it’s just something he can do. It certainly eases the task of keeping each other close in zero g. Naomi smiles against his lips. They both still have their mag boots on; there’s no real reason to hold on to her like this. Though, it does give her an idea.

Naomi breaks away from their kiss, shrugs off her bra, and tosses it behind her as he had done with her shirt. She watches his eyes flick down to catch a glimpse of her bared breasts. True to form, his gaze doesn’t linger. Not yet. He looks back up at her face after just a moment, and she rewards him with a smile. Slipping her hand back into his hair, Naomi pulls him in for another kiss. She shuffles her feet closer together and heels her mag boots off, kicking them away and letting that false sense of gravity release her.

One of Jim’s large, rough hands presses into her back, holding her to him. An anchor in null g. The only thing keeping her from drifting away from his warmth. Normally, she’d be happy to just stay like this. To be held by him, share his space. But his torture had wound her too tight. And pressing against him, kissing him, feeling the soft brush of his shirt against her nipples… it’s making her even more impatient for Jim to get a move on. She tugs at his hair, pushes one of his hands down to her waist.

“Help me get the rest of my clothes off, sailor?” she whispers.

She feels him grin. “With pleasure.”

Keeping one arm around her, Jim helps Naomi peel off her jumpsuit, her panties. He nuzzles the underside of her jaw as he shifts her upwards to slide those final garments down her legs. Naomi lets her eyes close, hums and rests a hand on his shoulder. The tip of his nose trails to the spot just behind her ear that always makes her melt. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses on her sensitive skin and the warmth travels straight to her belly. Naomi sighs as Jim’s lips ghost over her jaw and down the column of her neck. She scratches lightly at his scalp. Enjoys the little hitch she hears in Jim's breathing. He's nowhere near where she really wants him, yet she's certain this is well worth the wait.

Jim pauses when he reaches her tattoo. Naomi groans softly, squirms in his hold. He just chuckles into the crook of her neck.

“Jim,” she breathes.

“Teeth, right?”

She wants to tell him she hates him. To mutter a “fuck you” and pull at his hair, get him away from her. But he’d know there’s no heat behind it. He must know that she can’t take much more. Instead she whines, clings to him a little tighter.

“Yes.”

Naomi gasps as Jim’s teeth scrape gently against her tattoo. Any imagining she had of him while out in her EVA suit could never compare to actually being with him. His solid chest against hers, his hot breath against her skin, his long fingers digging into her hip and back. She’d imagined them as best she could. But it’s nothing like the real thing. She holds his head to her as he nips and kisses across her neck. His stubble scratches her collarbone, drawing another shiver from her.

“Are you going to keep _all_ your promises?”

Jim hums, nuzzling along her collarbone before nipping it as well. “Don’t see why I wouldn’t. Didn’t I just say that?”

“My mistake,” Naomi whispers, kissing his hair and sneaking a hand into the collar of his shirt to touch the warm skin of his back. “I’m a _little_ distracted. Continue.”

Jim snorts, kisses the hollow of her throat. “Yes, ma’am.”

His grip on her loosens and he shifts her up slowly to kiss down her chest. Naomi tightens her thighs against his ribs to further anchor herself to him, lets her eyes close. Jim’s grip is firm, but not tight, and it comforts her as much as it arouses her. So many of the little things he does are steeped in romantics. It’s just who he is. Naomi had been surprised to learn just how erotic she found it.

Maybe it’s _because_ it’s Jim doing it. Jim, a man who loves and respects her both as his partner and as his lover. A man she trusts with her life and more and a man she knows reciprocates it. Those important facets turn all his gentle touches, his long looks, every brush of skin and every word between them into more than just turn-ons. _This_ is how it’s meant to feel like, making love. Anything… anything any of her partners had given her before could never compare to how Jim makes her feel. And likely never _will_. Not that she has any plans to end what they have.

But all further thought is banished from Naomi’s mind as Jim’s mouth finds her nipple.

Naomi arches with a moan. If it weren’t for Jim’s mag boots and his steady, solid strength, she’d be pulling them both back towards the floor. But he holds onto her, hands splayed over her lower back and between her shoulders as he gently sucks at her breast. Naomi remembers a time where foreplay mattered far less to her than the sex itself. When she had been young and eager and desperate for satisfaction. Jim hadn’t been the one to give her the taste of lingering touches, careful teasing, drawn-out pleasure _before_ the main event that changed her mind. But he’s the one who’s made it addictive, a fact that’s hard to argue when every brush of tongue or teeth against her nipple leaves her gasping for more.

_He is_ too _good at this_.

Jim kisses across to her other breast, giving it the same attention. Her grip on his hair tightens when he starts using his teeth. It hadn’t been so easy to get him to the first time. He’d been trying to be his best romantic self in those early days—heavy on the lingering touches and hot kisses she’d grown to love before his particular brand—and her request had put him through a loop. The thought of his aghast expression coupled with his hand in her panties, still makes her laugh to this day. But the laugh is lost in a groan as he applies more pressure to his bite, then runs his tongue over her nipple to soothe the sting. She glances down to see him gazing up at her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You’re distracted,” he near-singsongs, a grin slipping through his serious facade.

Naomi grins back. “I’m thinking about you.”

Jim raises an eyebrow, tilts his head. “Really?” Naomi rolls her eyes, but gives him a nod anyway. His grin widens. “Well… in that case… carry on.”

“You first, honey.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

Jim presses a kiss between her breasts before shifting her up again to kiss down her stomach. She loosens her grip on his ribs, trusting him to hold onto her, to keep her close. Naomi shivers as his breath tickles her skin. She isn’t sure which sensation she enjoys most: the heat of his breath or the heat of his lips. Her body jerks when he nuzzles her belly, just below her navel. She kicks her heel against his side in retaliation and earns a chuckle she feels all the way to her core.

Jim shifts her up again, practically lets her go, and Naomi tilts herself back to hook her legs over his shoulders. A large hand splays over the middle of her back, holding her as level as it can. Jim wouldn’t let her float away. With a quick look her way—his resulting grin sending her belly into somersaults—he avoids where she really wants him and kisses up the inside of her thigh. Naomi groans. When she had asked him if he was keeping all his promises, she hadn’t meant for him to take his sweet time torturing her.

Naomi’s eyes follow Jim’s slow trek up her inner thigh. Their eyes meet as he kisses her knee. There had been a time, long ago, when Naomi—hurting, scared, angry, _lonely_ —would have done anything to have those eyes on her like this. Now, with months and experience between them, she finds she doesn’t have to do a damn thing. And she’ll be happy to spend months more just like this. Jim presses a kiss to her other knee, eyes full of promises and still fixed on her. He lingers for a few moments that pass like hours. Then he's kissing slowly down her thigh and she holds her breath.

The first pass of his tongue over her is deliciously slow. Naomi whimpers, arcs her body into the touch. His hand presses up against her back to keep her from pulling them both down. His other hand holds onto her hip, fingers digging into her flesh almost hard enough to cause pain. She likes the tight grip. To know he’s holding onto her. She reaches down to thread her fingers through his hair. On the second pass, he presses more firmly, the tip of his tongue catching on her clit. Naomi chokes out a cry, tightens her grip on his hair. He chuckles, the sound sending vibrations through her.

Jim laps at her, brow furrowed just enough to be noticed. He applies that focus that’s both impressed and infuriated her to making her feel good. Naomi watches him work, teasing his curls between her fingertips. Each breath is punctuated with a soft sound. She rocks her hips as best she can with his hold on her. She craves more friction, but not at the cost of pulling him down with her movements. Only his hand under her back keeps her level. Her thighs tremble from the effort of being clamped over his shoulders.

“Jim,” Naomi gasps. He doesn’t look at her. She repeats his name and waits for him to blink his eyes open, to fix them on her face. He doesn’t pull away from his work. “Please, honey.”

Jim’s grip on her hip tightens for just a second. She feels his shuddering breath against her and shivers herself. They gaze at each other, reading what they both want. Her chest warms. _This_ is intimacy. She’s almost amazed she’s never _known_ it until Jim. Naomi lets her nails rake against his scalp to draw him out of the moment. He blinks, gives her a tiny nod. And lets go of her hip.

Naomi crosses her ankles to ensure she won’t drift away without his hand on her. The hand under her shifts from the small of her back to between her shoulders. She breathes, closes her eyes in anticipation of what’s to come.

The brush of his thumb over her folds is too light. Naomi groans, pulls at his hair. He laughs again. He doesn’t tease her anymore. He pushes a finger into her—it’s not enough nowhere _near_ it but it’s _something_ —and she hums low and long. He works his finger in and out of her, taking care to brush against her walls until she’s squirming in his hold. Little gasps escape her. She rocks her hips, trusting his hand on her shoulder to keep her movements from ruining the moment.

It’s another few moments before he adds a second finger. Naomi lets out a low moan. It’s not what she wants, but the sensation of _two_ of Jim’s long fingers inside her is certainly nothing to scoff at. The soft sounds she makes get louder, more frequent. Holden’s breath comes quick, ghosting over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh where his mouth rests. It takes more effort than she’d like, but Naomi lifts her head to catch his eyes. A flash of heat shoots straight through her at the sight of him watching his fingers rock in and out of her.

“Jim,” she whispers, tugging at his hair again. He hums, his eyes meeting hers once more. He blinks.

She doesn’t have to say anything else.

Jim shifts and flicks his tongue against her clit. Naomi cries out, her grip on his hair tightening. Her other hand, which lay fisted on her stomach, slides up to cup her breast. She kneads it, brushes her thumb over her nipple with a shuddering sigh. Eyes still locked on hers, Jim closes his mouth around her clit and gently sucks. Naomi jerks with another cry, but Jim holds her steady.

Jim alternates sucking and licking in time with the thrusting of his hand. His gaze lingers on her face, watching her closely even as he works. She can feel the hand supporting her trembling from the effort of being held up for too long. Still, he takes his time, slows the pace to one she prefers. She’d rush him along if necessary. But as desperate as she is for her climax, she wants this to last as long as possible. Naomi hums and whines and moans as she kneads her breast and rocks her hips into Jim’s touch. She can feel the welcome and familiar tightening in her belly.

Naomi breathes his name between moans. She doesn’t need to say anything else. Jim knows the signs well enough by now. He finally closes his eyes, refocusing on the task at hand. Naomi keeps watching him over the twitching muscles of her stomach and her still working hand. He sucks harder on her clit, brushes his fingers against her walls again and drawing needier, high-pitched sounds from her throat. Her breath comes faster. The urge to clench her eyes shut is overwhelming but she fights it. His eyes flutter open to lock on hers.

Jim nips her clit quick but firm as he crooks his fingers in a ‘come hither’ gesture inside her. The string inside her snaps. Naomi comes with a sharp, loud cry, pulling at Jim’s hair and squeezing her breast. He presses up against her shoulder as she arcs. His hand keeps moving, and Naomi rocks against it to draw out her high. Before she can tell him she’s had enough, before she can even find the energy to open her mouth, Jim pulls his fingers from her. It makes her warm that he knows her so well.

She can feel Jim’s breath on her skin, warming her as the air around them cooled her. Jim pulls his hand away from her shoulder. Naomi lets herself float, closes her eyes and smiles to herself. _So worth the fucking wait._ She taps her heel against his back; her legs hooked over his shoulders are the only thing keeping them together. He lightly rests his hand on her thigh, giving her the time. More intimacy. His other hand moves to her hip, thumb brushing over her skin.

Naomi hums. “Jim?”

“Yes, love,” he mutters, kissing her knee. His voice sounds more wrecked than usual.

“You’re lucky you were able to deliver. I was about five seconds from strangling you for teasing me like that.”

Jim laughs. A rare sound saved only for the crew. “I would have deserved it.”

“At least you admit it.” She pats the hand resting on her hip and shifts her upper body up. Jim gets the message and helps her straighten. He wraps an arm around her waist and holds her against his chest as she hooks one arm around his neck again. She leans in to kiss him, slow and deep. She can taste herself on his lips.  “Thank you.”

Jim smiles, kisses her again. “Thanks aren’t _really_ necessary. But you’re welcome.”

“Oh, I forgot,” she teases, rubbing her nose against his as she rests her free hand on his side. “You _enjoy_ doing that.”

“Mm. So I should be thanking _you_.”

“Not before,” she starts, brushing her lips against his. She shifts her hand. “We take care of _you_.” She kisses him and slips her hand into his jumpsuit, into his boxer briefs.

Jim gasps into her mouth. Naomi grins as she strokes him. It feels good to turn the tables on him. To have him where he’d had her. It would feel better once he’s as naked as she is. Jim presses his forehead to hers, squeezes his eyes shut.

“Fuck, Naomi,” he rasps, nuzzling her cheek as arm tightens around her.

Naomi hums, catching his lips with hers. “Like you didn’t get an early start, all warm and alone in our cabin.”

“I didn’t. I waited. Thought you might kill me if I didn’t.”

_Of course he didn’t. I’m with a perfect gentleman_. “Well, aren’t _you_ patient.”

“Doubt it will last,” Jim growls, hand moving to the panel on the desk as she continues to touch him. It beeps when he opens the comms. “Alex? We still pointed at Tycho?”

There’s a pause before their pilot responds. “Uh... yeah, Hoss. Should be an easy burn.”

Naomi tilts her head to nip at his jaw, gently squeezes him. Jim struggles to stay quiet. But a soft whimper still escapes him.

“Great. Third of a G. Soon as possible.”

“You okay, Hoss? You sound a little—”

“Third of a G, Alex!” He hits the comm button harder than necessary, and Naomi laughs into his neck.

“You were right. It didn’t last.”

Jim huffs a laugh. Naomi presses kisses to the underside of his jaw, slowing her hand to a more teasing pace. He whimpers again. Naomi’s said it before and she’ll say it again: she loves how easy it is to draw every little sound out of him. Especially the ones that are less than masculine. He breathes her name when she nips at his pulse, moans it when she pulls at him. He says it once more, his tone more urgent and she pulls away to look at him. He gives her a weak smile.

“As… incredible as this feels… maybe you should get in the bed before Alex starts thrust. To be safe.”

Naomi blinks at him. “How did I find such a gentleman?”

“Honey,” he laughs, glancing down at her hand in his jumpsuit, “‘gentleman’ is a bit strong of a word, here.”

“Oh, hush.” She kisses him, pulls her hand away to a soft whine from him. “You’re plenty gentlemanly. However…” She pushes off him to float back to their bed, giving him as coy a grin as she can manage. “You have to do _one_ thing for me in return.”

“And what’s that?”

Naomi grabs onto the bulkhead with one hand and points at him with the other.

“Shirt. Off. Gotta give me something to look at if I have to wait for you.”

Jim rolls his eyes but does as she asks, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it behind him. It hovers like all the other clothes he’s thrown and Naomi can’t help but laugh. She bites her lip as she gazes at the expanse of pale skin over hard muscle, his open jumpsuit sat low on his hips. She jokes about being with him for his cute butt. But really… it’s the whole package. He advances on her, gait slow and expression too amused to feel predatory. She grins and beckons him with the same finger she’d pointed with. He shakes his head.

“You should be in the bed _before_ Alex starts burning for Tycho.”

“Kiss me first and I will be.”

“You’re giving a _lot_ of orders, XO,” Jim chides, voice low. Still, he steps closer. Naomi wills his jumpsuit to slide off but she knows it won’t. Jim places a rough hand on her hip, cups her jaw with the other.

She grins up at him. “Then stop taking them from me, _Captain_.”

He snorts. “You say that as if it were so easy.” He leans in and kisses her again, thumb stroking over her jaw. She wraps a hand around his wrist. Not much about them is easy. Being from two different worlds, working together, seeing the best and worst in each other. But this? Being with him, in his arms right now in their cabin, kissing him against their bunk? This is easy.

When they finally break apart, panting and gazing at each other, Jim’s lips twist in a smirk and he gives her enough of a push to send her into the bunk. Naomi laughs as she braces against the screen above the bed.

“Now who’s pushy and impatient?”

“I’m not ashamed.”

Alex starts the burn to Tycho not moments later. Naomi drops onto the mat and sinks in. Jim looks like it’s a minor inconvenience, like he’s on a lift, with a soft grunt and a furrowed brow. The clothes he's thrown around the room drop to the floor all at once, drawing laughs out of the both of them.

Jim rarely orders a burn harder than half a g, for her and Alex’s comfort. Mostly for her. It’s easier on her. None of them had fared well in the burn to target Eros. But as a Belter she’d had it worse, and Jim had been startled and worried upon seeing the blood dripping from her nose and hearing the rasp of her breathing. He'd hovered as the auto doc checked her out and fixed her bones and lungs. And never burned more than she was used to again.

Once his body has acclimated to being under gravity once more, Jim heels off his mag boots and kicks them away. His socks soon follow. But he leaves his jumpsuit on, smirking as he climbs into the bed between her legs. His hips press against hers, drawing a groan from her that he cuts off with a kiss. She slips one hand into his hair and reaches down to push at his waistband.

“I _need_ you,” Naomi whispers against his lips, teasing her fingers along his hip. “No more games.”

Jim’s breath hitches. He pulls back just enough to see her face. He blinks, his gaze shifting between her eyes and her lips. “Yes, ma’am,” he breathes.

They work together to shove his jumpsuit and briefs off, to get him as naked as she is. There’s a scary pause when Jim gets his foot caught and almost falls out of the bed, but she catches him and kisses him through their laughter.

“Okay.“ He nuzzles her cheek as he settles back onto his forearms, rocks himself against her to draw another sigh from her. “ _That_ was the last one.”

“You promise?” She pokes his side with her knee.

He grins against her lips. “I promise.”

Naomi shifts, reaches between them to take hold of him. His brows draw together as lets out a soft “ah” and it’s her turn to smile. He’s waited too long. She’s waited too long. She catches his eyes one last time. He winks. Naomi lines them up, and Jim eases into her until their hips meet and they’re both shaking.

Jim presses his forehead to hers as Naomi hums. This is what she’s wanted. What she’s been waiting for. For Jim to be at home inside her, _not_ teasing her. She tips her chin up to kiss him. As much as she appreciates his waiting for her to adjust… she’s done enough waiting. While she has him distracted, she rocks her hips up against his, and he gasps into her mouth. That should get his attention.

He starts slow. Every thrust deep and lingering just like his kisses. Naomi moves a hand to his back, feeling his muscles move beneath his skin. She loves this pace. Hell, she loves sex with Jim in general. But this, the lack of urgency to fulfill his own needs before her, the desire to build and build to what they both want… Just more evidence of how different he is. She closes her eyes as she moans. It’s not enough.

Naomi hooks a leg over his hip, pulling him against her. He groans into her neck, a low, broken sound. She loves hearing that he’s as wrecked as she is. She threads her fingers through his hair, holds him to her.

“Faster, honey. Please.”

Jim shivers. “Okay.”

When he moves again, he does exactly as she asks. Naomi gasps, tipping her head back, exposing her neck to his mouth. Teeth scrape against her skin and a strangled sound escapes her throat. Naomi rocks her hips up to meet his. Her blunt nails dig into his back and his scalp. His breath tickles her jaw just behind her ear. She longs to hold him close, to press him flush against her and take comfort in his weight and warmth. But that can wait. She doesn’t want him to stop.  

Familiar heat coils in her belly like a spring. Moans and mewls and gasps—in chorus with harsh breaths, soft groans, growls, and whimpers—come louder and higher pitched. Her second orgasm is close but not close enough. She presses her cheek to the side of Jim’s head and catches her name falling breathlessly from his lips.

“Jim,” she sighs, kissing his hair.

He groans, thrusting hard to draw a cry out of her. “Naomi,” he whines against her jaw. “I can’t… I don’t…”

Naomi hums and rotates her hips when they meet again, earning another whimper from him. “I know. Almost there. It’s okay, it’s—”

Jim lifts his head to cut her off with a kiss. It’s hard and messy and _almost_ everything Naomi wants. She clings to him, kissing him back with a matching intensity. He pulls away, weight shifting to one side, and she whines at the loss. She opens her eyes to gaze up at him, to fix him with a dirty look or to call him a name, but the argument quickly dies in her throat.

He’s staring back at her. Brow furrowed, lips parted, gaze studying her face but mostly her eyes. Some small part of her wants to look away, the length of eye contact making her uncomfortable. The lack of movement, unsatisfying. The rest of her, however—the most important parts of her— revels in the attention. The heat of his gaze tightens her inner coil further. He’s still close enough that she could kiss him if she wanted to. Tilt her chin up so their lips would meet.

But then his fingers are on her clit and she can’t think of anything at all.

Naomi cries his name, arching into him and his touch. She hears a hitch in Jim’s breathing and focuses her gaze back on him. Awe glows in his widened eyes. The intensity is still too hard for her to look directly at. She pulls his head down to press his forehead to hers. When she rocks into him again, his eyes finally close, screwing shut with a soft sound from the back of his throat.

Jim lets her control the pace, still meeting her thrusts but focussing on teasing her clit. Alternating feather-light touches with firm presses to draw out whimpers and moans. Their lips brush as they move, breathing each other’s air. Every breath comes with small noises from both of them, each one louder and higher-pitched than the last. The coil is almost too tight. She’s almost there. Judging by how Jim trembles under her hands, he’s not far behind.

“Jim.” She tilts her chin up to catch his lips. He hums. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

He makes a strangled sound, eyes blinking open to look at her again. She meets his gaze, and he shudders. He rubs at her clit with renewed vigor, hips stuttering against hers enough to draw her closer. He groans, buries his face in her neck. Naomi nuzzles into his hair. Clings to his shoulders. She’s too hot, too tightly wound, and she pants and moans as it builds and builds. Until, finally, the coil snaps and Naomi comes with a wail that she no longer cares if Alex and Amos can hear. She lets herself get lost in an orgasmic haze, vaguely aware of Jim coming with a cry of his own.

Naomi hums as she melts back into the mattress, idly stroking Jim’s hair as he relaxes into her. Depending on the intensity of a burn, he can be too heavy for her to bear. But in this fractional gravity, he’s a warm, comforting weight. There’s nowhere else she’d want him to be. She feels his blunt nails trailing along her side as he catches his breath and returns the favor up and down his spine. He shivers.

“So,” Naomi starts, still breathless. “I think it’s time we finally lay some private channel ground rules, right, honey?”

Jim laughs, his breath tickling her neck. He pushes up onto an elbow with a groan. “What, and spoil our fun?”

“Fun?” Naomi raises an eyebrow. “That was absolute fucking torture, Jim. I couldn’t even _touch_ myself.”

“All right, all right. No spacewalk teasing. Unless one of us _really_ deserves it.”

Naomi snorts. “Meaning I owe you one.”

“Bring it on,” Jim rumbles, grinning wide and leaning down to kiss her. “Next spacewalk I take, you get a free pass. See if I can hide it from Amos better than you did.”

Naomi hits his shoulder blade. “ _Pashang inyalowda_ , that was _your_ fault!”

Jim laughs, smile wide and bright and contagious. “I’ll take the blame. Can’t argue with the results.”

No, she really can’t. Jim pulls out of her, and they both groan at the loss. But before he can roll to the side like he always does, Naomi stops him with the hand on his back, pulling him back towards her.

“Stay? It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

Jim blinks at her. The wonder flashes through his eyes again. “Really? You sure?”

She grins up at him, trails her fingertips down his jaw. “I’m sure. You’re not _that_ heavy, Earther. I promise. Stop worrying.”

He watches her face a moment longer before grinning, nodding. Jim pulls the sheets up over them. He settles back down against her, head on her shoulder, arms tucked beneath hers so she can keep both around him. They both go quiet; the only sounds around them coming from the ship and their breathing as she resumes petting his back, toying with his hair. He hums deep in his throat.

“Don’t get mad if I fall asleep on you,” he slurs, nuzzling the base of her neck.

“I won’t. It’s okay.” She presses a kiss to the top of his head. “We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

In the silence that follows—relative silence, Jim snores—Naomi’s mind wanders many places. The narrow corridors of Ceres, hodge-podge belter ships, small hands pulling at her hair, a cozy hole with another warm body and hot hands. But every time her thoughts get close to something too hard to come back from, they drift back to the present. To Jim and his soft snores. She smiles and nuzzles into his hair again.

“I think I love you,” she whispers.

It’s not a private channel, but it’s still only for his ears. And she hopes one day she can tell him when he’s listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it fam. We did it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hehehehehehehehe.


End file.
